


Bad Dreams

by actually_its_cady



Category: Jagged Little Pill - Morissette & Ballard/Morissette/Cody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actually_its_cady/pseuds/actually_its_cady
Summary: Steve is there for MJ when the nightmares come.
Relationships: Mary Jane "MJ" Healy/Steve Healy
Kudos: 11





	Bad Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Two works in one day I have entirely too much free time, but thanks for reading!

Steve stepped through the front door of the house, surprised at how quiet it was. MJ should be home, and God knows that when she was around, there was always cooking or cleaning or something going on. But it was dead silent.

“MJ?” Steve called as he entered the kitchen. When there was no answer, he was suddenly hit with a feeling that something was wrong. Even when they were at their worst, MJ always answered when he came home from work. Always. 

But now there was nothing but silence.

“MJ?” Steve repeated, more frantically this time. When there was no answer, he turned into the living room and was aghast at what he found- MJ, on the floor, white as a ghost, her entire body shaking.

“MJ!” Steve ran to help her, but as he got to her, the shaking stopped, and her body was still. Too still. Crying, Steve ran to her side and held her body, and-

Steve woke up with a start on the couch in the living room. He had inadvertently dozed off after a phone call with a client. He was sweaty, and short of breath, still thinking about the images he had seen in his dream. MJ had been so pale, so lifeless, so…

He shook the thought from his head and pulled himself off the couch, deciding to check on MJ, just in case. She was napping, something Steve had never known her to do in the 25 years they had known each other. Even when the kids were little, and he had no idea how she stayed upright, she never stopped to take a break. 

But now, MJ had to stop and rest even after doing little things, like cleaning the kitchen or going for a quick walk down the street. Steve wasn’t sure if it was because she was exhausted physically or mentally, but he assumed that it was a combination of both. Ever since she had gotten back from rehab a few weeks ago, MJ was vastly different from the one he had known for so long. The MJ he had fallen in love with was still there, but she was tired. All the time. And broken. 

As he rounded the corner into their bedroom, Steve paused slightly, as if he was scared that MJ would look the way she did in that dream. Steve knew it was silly, but it just felt so real. Probably because it had been real, a few months earlier, when he found MJ passed out on the floor after her overdose. That was the scariest moment of his entire life, and sometimes, when he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, scenes from that day would flash in his mind.

Not just how MJ looked when he found her, but how small she looked in the hospital bed, with all those tubes coming out of her. How confused she had been when she woke up, how she cried when she found out what had happened. 

As Steve entered the room, he was relieved to discover that MJ was fine. She didn’t look small, or pale, she just looked like MJ, taking a nap. She was curled up on her side of the bed facing Steve, though she didn’t wake when he entered.

Steve decided he would feel better if he sat with MJ while she slept, just to make sure nothing happened to her. Not that anything would happen to her, but if Steve had learned anything from the past few months it was to expect the unexpected. 

He settled in next to MJ, but before he opened his book, he just looked at MJ, a thousand memories rushing through his head. Their first date, to a not-that-nice Italian restaurant by his office. Their first vacation together, a long weekend in Florida where it rained the entire three days, and they stayed inside and MJ beat him in five consecutive games of Scrabble. The time they drove to Cape Cod and rented bikes, their wedding, Nick’s first birthday, the day they brought Frankie home. How MJ cried when Nick broke his arm, how she cheered the loudest during Frankie’s school play, that time she got Steve’s father’s watch resized so Steve could wear it on his first day as partner. 

She had always been so damn perfect.

To Steve, she still was perfect, she was just more human than she had been before. Before, he was always amazed at her unwillingness to slow down, but now he just wished he had stopped to ask himself why.

Steve’s thoughts were interrupted by a quiet whimper coming from MJ. Steve glanced down at her as she rolled over to face him, still asleep, but with a pained expression written on her face. She twitched again as her breathing grew more rapid, and Steve realized that she was having a nightmare. And he didn’t know what to do. She had mentioned to him during a therapy session that she had nightmares somewhat frequently, especially when she was stressed, but that she had never woken Steve to ask for help. Didn’t want to bother him, she said. At that session, Steve had made her promise that she would wake him up the next time it happened, but either she hadn’t had any nightmares or she wasn’t telling Steve about them. Steve guessed it was the latter, which meant that he had no idea what to do in this situation.  
While Steve racked his brain trying to think of a way to calm MJ down without waking her, she shot up straight in bed, her breathing shallow and frantic. Her eyes darted around the room, clearly trying to assure herself that she was safe from whatever had happened in her dream.

Steve reached out and slowly placed a hand on her leg over the blanket, which caused MJ to jolt away from him in surprise. 

“MJ, honey, you’re okay. It was just a dream”, Steve said quietly.

MJ stared at him while she tried to slow her breathing, as if she was trying to figure out who Steve was. Slowly, Steve reached out to put a hand on MJ’s shoulder, saying “I’m right here sweetheart, you’re okay”.

MJ’s breathing slowed as Steve shifted towards her, rubbing small circles on her back. After a few minutes, she was back to normal, although still very clearly shaken up.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Steve asked his wife quietly, continuing to rub her back.

MJ just shook her head.

“Are you sure? I think our therapist would want us to-”

MJ interrupted him by saying in a small voice, “Can we talk about it later? I… I don’t want to right now.”

Steve looked at her, and she looked almost childlike, just small and scared, still sitting stiff as a board next to him.

“Okay, honey. What do you want right now?” he asked. 

MJ paused. It had been so long since someone had really, truly cared about what she wanted, and she didn’t quite know how to answer.

“Can… can we just lay here?” she asked softly, her voice breaking a little.

“We sure can”, Steve replied, gently pulling MJ towards him so her head was resting on his chest. He put one hand on her back, rubbing it gently, and used his other arm to keep her secure against his body. She relaxed a little then, and Steve glanced down at her, processing what he was seeing. MJ never asked for help. Once, she sprained her ankle on a run, and instead of calling Steve, she got herself to the hospital, got a brace, and went home like nothing had happened. She had always been fiercely independent the entire time Steve had known her.

But now, he was realizing that she wasn’t as independent as he had thought. Her independence, that ‘go-get-em’ attitude had really just been a mask for everything else she was feeling. 

But they were changing now, both of them. Steve was around more, learning to recognize when MJ needed help, when she was stressed out. And MJ was very slowly beginning to realize that it was okay to ask for help, and that she didn’t need to be perfect all the time. Steve would love her just the same whether she was drowning or she was flying.

Because of course he would, and of course he did.


End file.
